


late nights in the middle of june

by jacenbren



Series: a multi-fandom collection of utter filth I wrote while bored and/or horny [6]
Category: Lego Ninjago, The LEGO Ninjago Movie (2017)
Genre: Body Worship, Dirty Talk, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Fluff and Smut, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Transphobia, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Purple Prose, Rare Pairings, Safe Sane and Consensual, Smut, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Trans Male Character, Trans Morro, no beta we die like zane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29920332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacenbren/pseuds/jacenbren
Summary: Road shimmerWiggling the visionHeat heat wavesI'm swimming in a mirror
Relationships: Cole/Morro (Ninjago)
Series: a multi-fandom collection of utter filth I wrote while bored and/or horny [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2200218
Kudos: 10





	late nights in the middle of june

**Author's Note:**

> How come I can write utter filth like this in under three days but I can’t focus on either of my damn WIPs for more than like ten minutes 
> 
> Like what the hell
> 
> (But anyway I rewatched the Ninjago movie recently because I’ve been starved for wholesome father/son content since season 2 of The Mandalorian finished up so have some movieverse sandstorm)

Cole’s been through a lot. 

He’s helped beat back Garmadon with the others countless times. He’s pushed himself,  _ been _ pushed, past the breaking point more times than he can count. Hell, he’s  _ literally died _ before, and he got stuck as a ghost for almost a year and a half back when he was a sophomore until Sensei Wu found a spell to undo it. 

So why, he wonders, does he hesitate when Morro starts tugging at his belt as they’re making out against the wall of his room?

Cole  _ wants _ to believe it’s the muggy summer evening heat permeating his bedroom or because his window’s wide open or even the fact that they’re getting handsy underneath his Elton John poster—the man is staring down at them through his oversized red plastic sunglasses with a disapproving expression—but deep down, Cole knows why he’s nervous, and it makes him feel absolutely ridiculous. 

Somehow, the idea of finally having sex is… 

Well, he feels  _ incredibly _ nervous. Probably because he’s never gone all the way before, but as an nineteen-year-old senior in his last few weeks of high school, it makes him feel… 

Well, he feels like a loser, even though he knows that he shouldn’t. 

“I, uh,” he mumbles as Morro pulls back, his storm-grey eyes narrowed but the light behind them is soft. For the resident delinquent loner guy who’s well known for his shaggy black hair, shredded jeans, being Lloyd’s adoptive cousin, and how he stabbed one of the football jocks in the parking lot with a switchblade for calling him a handful of transphobic slurs, he’s surprisingly empathetic and gentle. 

At least, when they’re in private. Whenever they hold hands in the school hallways, Morro’s glare is sharper than the aforementioned switchblade he keeps in his boot and twice as vicious. 

“What’s wrong?” Morro asks. 

Cole glances aside nervously. 

“I…” he trails off again, feeling embarrassed, “I wanna… well I wanna do it but…”

He doesn’t want to admit it. 

Morro, however, seems to pick up on what he wants to say but can’t bring himself to. He’s weirdly perceptive like that, and sometimes it freaks Cole out that Morro can figure out what his favorite food is just from listening to him order from a fast food restaurant. 

He doesn’t really care right now, though. 

“You haven’t done this before,” Morro murmurs, gently stroking his lips with his thumb. “Have you?”

Cole slowly shakes his head. 

His cheeks are burning, and he feels ridiculous. 

“Hey, we can take it slow,” Morro says softly, taking his hands and pulling him close. “I can teach you what to do, baby. C’mere.”

Cole’s breath catches in his throat, but in a good way.

Morro kisses him, hard and open-mouthed as he pulls him over to the bed. Cole melts into it, sucking in a sharp breath as Morro moves to trail his lips down the side of his neck until he finds Cole’s pulse point and starts sucking. A moan that Cole can barely hold down rumbles in his throat, and then Morro leans up and purrs in his ear. 

“You ever given head before, Twinkle Toes?”

“Yeah,” Cole blurts awkwardly, cringing at the stupid albeit endearing nickname. “Uh, only to people with dicks though. Sorry.”

Morro lets out an amused huff through his nose and tugs him down onto the bed by his belt loops. “Don’t worry, the general mechanics are pretty close. You’ll figure it out quick.”

And with that, Morro, who’s now prone on his back, props himself up to slide his jacket off, then his shirt.

He then lies back against the pillows, naked from the waist up and his hair is out of his ponytail, spilling down his shoulders in silky obsidian waves, except for that green-dyed lock near the front. He’s all moon-pale skin and lithe, compact muscle, and he stretches one arm above his head, lips quirking into a smirk as he pats his thigh invitingly. 

Lust is simmering in his slate-grey eyes, and sweat shines on his throat and his collar. 

Cole bites his lip, heat starting to pool in his gut.

He wants to be careful about this; he doesn’t want to hurt his boyfriend but his self-control is already straining as he pulls Morro’s leg over his hip and starts to grind, sucking wet, hungry kisses into his chest, letting himself drown in that addicting taste of salt and pure heat and something  _ truly _ debauched. Testosterone and his top surgery last year has done Morro well, and his chest and abs are rock-hard and muscled from training with the others ever since he joined the team shortly after the Meowthra incident. 

“Ah, fuck,” Morro hisses in pleasure as Cole slides lower and starts mouthing along his chest, catching a nipple between his lips and sucking gently. He smirks to himself, reaching up to fondle and pinch at the other, and Morro lets out a low groan, rolling his hips.

Cole almost chokes on his own spit trying to hold down a whine. He’s hard in his jeans, almost painfully so, and he’s forced to stop his ministrations to hastily yank his pants off. 

Not his boxers, though, not yet. He’s not feeling quite brave enough for that. 

Morro, however, doesn’t seem to have as many reservations about nudity, because he slides his jeans off his hips and kicks them off without hesitating. Now he’s propped up on his elbows again and his face is flushed pink, eyes glazed over with fiery arousal.

“You ready?” He asks, voice low and husky. 

“Y—yeah,” Cole breathes. Hell, Morro’s getting him hornier than he ever thought he could without a damn word. It’s  _ killing _ him. 

Cole leans down, trailing kisses along Morro’s abs. He finally reached the hem of his boxers, and there’s a damp patch on Morro’s crotch. Cole’s not stupid; he knows that means he’s doing  _ something _ right, so he experimentally rubs his knuckles against the spot. 

Morro chokes on a moan above him, clamping a hand over his mouth. His brow is furrowing and his blush is deepening, and  _ hell _ is Cole’s dick enjoying this, he thinks to himself, rubbing circles on Morro’s hips with his thumb as he pulls his boxers down to his knees, hesitating for a moment before reaching up and spreading him gently with his fingers. 

Cole suddenly feels embarrassed again. He’s not sure where to start, but Morro seems to pick up on this, threading his fingers through his hair. 

“It’s easier than you think,” he murmurs, smirking. The pure carnal  _ want _ in his eyes makes Cole’s knees weak, and the temperature of his bedroom seems to climb rapidly and exponentially. “Don’t be afraid baby, I’m not gonna break.”

Cole bites his lip, hesitating to work up the courage before leaning down and curiously dragging his tongue across him. Morro gasps, his hips twitching, and Cole licks his lips, taking in the flavor. It’s something hot and heady that he can’t quite describe, almost salty as he leans back in and slides his tongue between slick folds. It’s not his favorite taste, but it’s not bad. 

_ “F—fuck,” _ Morro groans, letting his head roll back. “Yeah. Like that but do it— _ aah!” _

Cole smirks. This is going better than expected, he thinks, licking and sucking harder, searching for the spots that’re making Morro’s hips stutter before he finds his clit and Morro moans  _ loudly, _ the hand that’s not clutching Cole’s hair flying to his mouth again. 

“Right there,” he pants. “Damn it, you’re a natural—oh my  _ god, _ yeah yeah yeah like that—“

Cole glances up, and he almost cums in his boxers right then and there when he sees Morro leaning against the pillows with a blissed-out look on his flushed face, the redness crawling down his neck and heaving chest and highlighting the occasional fading scar. He’s even sweatier than before, his disheveled hair spilling over the pillows in deep obsidian waves. 

Morro’s absolutely wrecked, and  _ hot damn _ is it a good look on him.

Suddenly Morro’s pulling him off, gasping for breath. Cole starts to ask if something’s wrong—reaching up in an attempt to wipe his mouth—but Morro hauls him in and kisses him.

Cole can’t help wondering if Morro can taste himself on his lips, and for some reason that thought is  _ really _ turning Cole on. 

“Are you sure you’re comfortable with this?” Morro asks, his voice deadly serious. “With—“

“Yeah,” Cole blurts. 

Oh, he wants this. 

He wants it  _ bad.  _

The freezing sobriety in Morro’s demeanor quickly melts away, and he smirks again, those beautiful steel-colored eyes that look like they have thunderheads trapped in their depths morphing from serious to something arrogant and almost predatory, like a fox that had a mouse cornered. “Good,” he says, grabbing Cole’s ass in both hands and squeezing—which makes Cole choke on his own spit and the slick still clinging to his lips. “I’ve wanted you to fuck me stupid for a while now.”

Cole can feel the heat crawling up his face as he awkwardly fumbles for a condom from his nightstand—his dad had rather abruptly presented him with a box of them on his sixteenth birthday, so he knows what he’s doing—and takes off his boxers and puts it on. 

All the while, Morro’s watching him like a hawk, and that lazy smirk comes back as he fingers himself slowly while he waits. 

It takes all of Cole’s self-restraint to keep from slamming Morro bodily into the sheets. 

“You’re making me horny,” he growls. 

Morro’s eyebrows twitch as he spreads his legs. “Then do something about it, pretty boy.”

Cole doesn’t need to be told twice. 

He knows he’s sloppy and uncoordinated as he leans down and kisses Morro again, but he can’t find it in himself to care. Somehow the skin-on-skin contact is intoxicating, as well as their combined body heat. It’s stifling and far too humid in the best way, and albeit the brief awkwardness of ordaining a comfortable position, the feeling that comes next is  _ amazing.  _

_ “Fuck,” _ Cole groans as he slowly pushes in. Morro has his thighs in a viselike grip, panting heavily. 

“You’re bigger,” Morro gasps, that shit-eating grin back on his face again even though he’s visibly struggling to keep his composure. “Than I expected.”

“That supposed to be an insult?” Cole remarks. 

“Depends on what you like more,” Morro retorts, rocking his hips in an attempt to get some friction. “Now fuckin’ rail me, baby.”

Cole’s self-restraint finally shatters. 

He snaps his hips forward, giving in completely to what his body wants. Morro moans loudly and arches against him, and the feeling of his nails digging into Cole’s shoulders are just as addicting as the slick heat of his body and how he clenches around him. Cole realizes he’s moaning too, but he doesn’t bother to stifle it. 

Besides, Morro seems to be enjoying how loud he’s getting right now. 

And then they’re kissing again, biting at each other’s lips and Cole feels sweat rolling down his neck but he can’t bring himself to care, really. Morro’s vocal, he realizes disjointedly as he throws his lover’s leg over his shoulder and thrusts in as deep as he can. Most of what Morro’s saying is unintelligible, but Cole hears feverish, sybaritic praise mixed with pleading and cursing and somehow it sounds heavenly, even when it’s coupled with the lewd, slick sounds of them fucking and skin hitting damp skin. 

It’s when Morro starts regressing back into Spanish that Cole knows he’s getting close. 

Sure, he spoke it for most of his early life growing up homeless in Ignacia, but Morro rarely, if ever, speaks it. Unlike Kai and Nya—who argue and curse in Spanish all the time—seeing Morro lose his composure to the point where he loses his English is very uncommon, to the point where Lloyd still isn’t fully convinced that he actually knows the language and isn’t fucking with everybody. 

But this…

_ “Mierda,” _ Morro spits, his brow furrowing as he reaches down to rub his clit. “Fuck,  _ más más dame más—mierda!” _

Cole groans deep in his throat. He doesn’t know what it is about that slip of Spanish, but whatever it is, it’s  _ doing _ things to him, and he can feel himself getting close, especially when Morro full-on  _ bites _ him on the shoulder. 

“Fuck,” he pants. “M’close. Keep… keep talkin’ baby, your voice is so sexy—“

Morro lets out a breathy chuckle. 

_ “Yo también, cariño,” _ he purrs, digging his nails into Cole’s shoulders again in lieu of his teeth.  _ “Te gusta cuando te hablo sucio, cariño? Crees que podría hacerte terminar con solo mi voz?” _

“Fucking  _ hell,” _ Cole gasps.

He has  _ no fucking clue _ what Morro’s saying, but whatever it is, he’s  _ so _ close.

And then he comes with groan, shaking with exhaustion, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps pistoning his hips desperately until Morro reaches his own peak, babbling utter nonsense in a mix of Spanish and English and then they both go limp in a sweaty, sticky pile of limbs, partially tangled in the—now filthy—bedsheets.

It’s quiet for a moment, except for the distant sounds of the evening traffic filtering through the open window and their heaving breaths. 

Cole freezes. 

“Shit,” he blurts in mounting horror, and Morro—who  _ was _ lying back just a second ago with his eyes closed and a blissful, fucked-out grin on his face—sits up quickly. 

“What?”

“The window,” Cole groans in embarrassment, and Morro snorts. “I forgot to close the damn window.”

“You’re a dumbass,” Morro snickers. 

All Cole can manage is a few halfhearted shoves as they briefly wrestle each other. Damn, he feels tired all over. He’ll probably be sore during training tomorrow, and Kai’s gonna make all sorts of vulgar jokes at their expense. At least the plus side of  _ that _ is watching Zane’s reactions to said jokes—or in other words, not getting them and asking what Kai they mean, causing Nya to backhand her older brother across their warehouse and Jay to become a flustered mess, which is always entertaining. 

“Throw the condom away and come cuddle me,” Morro mumbles with his face buried in the sheets, derailing Cole’s train of thought. 

“Donwanna move,” he groans, rolling over and wrapping his arm around his boyfriend. 

Morro scoffs, in typical incredibly blunt Morro fashion, and curls up against his chest with a contented sigh. “You’re so gross. I love you.”

_ Well, he has a point, _ Cole thinks to himself, grinning sleepily. They  _ are _ gonna be super gross when they get up, but he can’t bring himself to care right now, given that he’s basking in the afterglow of one hell of an orgasm with his amazing, beautiful boyfriend in his arms. 

And that’s how he drifts off to sleep. 

The heat of the summer evening is muggy and stifling, but Cole wouldn’t have it any other way. 

**Author's Note:**

> hey hey hey, c’mon,,,, i’m just a little guy. i’m just a little guy and it’s my birthday. c’mooon i’m a little birthday boy. you’re gonna punch a little guy on his birthday??


End file.
